


Second Is Okay (You Ain't Ever Beating Me)

by exmanhater



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Competition, Crack, M/M, Rookie Handling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-24
Updated: 2015-06-24
Packaged: 2018-04-05 21:45:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4196028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exmanhater/pseuds/exmanhater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The media likes to think that Jonathan Toews has grown into a calm and mature adult. Patrick Kane calls bullshit.</p><p>Or, the time Patrick and Jonny had a rookie hero worship competition and Teuvo Teravainen almost wished he hadn't made it to the NHL.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second Is Okay (You Ain't Ever Beating Me)

**Author's Note:**

> Set close to the start of the 2014-15 season. This fic should be entirely blamed upon/accredited to [torigates](http://archiveofourown.org/users/torigates/profile) and [reallyyeahokay](http://archiveofourown.org/users/reallyyeahokay/profile), because Tori had the idea to start with, and reallyyeahokay was a champion cheerleader and also came up with all of the best of Jonny's plans. (See also: [Jonny's creepy smile](http://blue--spruce.tumblr.com/post/120548689907/twoearsandaheart-puppy-tazer-like-youve-never#notes).)
> 
> This post will be locked to AO3 in one week.

It's not a _thing_ , no matter what Patrick says. Jonny won't let it be a thing. It's just – Patrick has been the undisputed king of rookie-handling ever since 2012 and Jonny thinks it's his turn. He is the captain, after all. Also, he's really fucking sick of Patrick playing clips from that interview Teuvo gave about Patrick being his favorite player and teammate.

"You're an awesome captain," Patrick says, a faint hint of his "manage Jonny when he's in a mood" tone in his voice. This does not make Jonny feel very much like listening.

"Which means I should also be great with the rookies," Jonny says, quite reasonably.

Patrick snorts. "They all think you're going to murder them in their sleep if they don't play well. Face it – you've got Sharpy and me for handling rookies, and it should stay that way."

"They don't think that," Jonny protests.

Patrick levels him with a disbelieving stare. "You once told Shawzy that he'd wake up with his head – and everywhere else – shaved bald if he didn't shut the hell up for five goddamned minutes."

"He's not a rookie anymore," Jonny says. Besides, Shawzy had known that was a joke.

"He was when you said that!" Patrick replies. "Besides, what about the time you made Saader stay up until three am playing pool because he kept getting and I quote "lucky shots" and you kept scratching?"

"I've mellowed!" Jonny says. "Everyone knows I've mellowed."

Patrick snorts again and gestures at the TV screen, where their game is paused. "You told me just five minutes ago that I wasn't allowed to leave until we did best of ten because I'm whipping your ass and you can't take it."

Jonny can feel his neck getting red, a mixture of rage and embarrassment. "I don't have to be mellow with you," he grumbles.

Patrick's face softens before a devious smirk appears. "Nah," he says. "You don't. I've been handling your cranky ass since we were teenagers. I'm immune."

"Whatever," Jonny says, un-pausing the game with no warning.

It sticks with him, though. He _has_ mellowed, he knows he has, but not enough to be okay with the fact that Patrick is kicking his ass at rookie hero worship in addition to video games.

After a long night of thinking, in which he acknowledges but doesn't care that trying to be better at rookie-handling than Patrick is actually proving Patrick right about him being too hypercompetitive, he ends up with a spreadsheet of ideas. He's a little embarrassed, but whatever – no one ever has to actually see it, and planning is for winners.

 

**Step One: Be nice and approachable**

"Hey, nice job in practice today, buddy," Jonny tells Teuvo the next day. He's smiling, which is a crucial part of the plan.

"Thank you?" Teuvo says, backing up an inch and scanning the room like he's trying to find the exits.

Jonny starts to frown, then catches himself. "I mean it, you've been great out there."

"Okay?" Teuvo replies. "I'm trying to be better, I really am!" He inches back a little further and visibly swallows.

Jonny's trying to find another way to get Teuvo to believe the compliment when Patrick comes out of the showers and slaps Teuvo's back.

"Good job, man," he says, winking and grinning. "You're gonna kill it tomorrow."

Teuvo lights up like a fucking Christmas tree. "Really, you think so?"

Patrick gives him finger guns – fucking finger guns – and says "Yeah, totally."

Jonny fumes silently and finishes getting dressed. Maybe it's going to take a while for the be-nice step to show results. It's probably confusing matters that Jonny had spent the whole practice correcting Teuvo's faceoff stance, but not even beating Patrick is more important than hockey. He's not about to mellow on the ice.

 

**Step Two: Develop a one-on-one friendship not entirely based on hockey**

Patrick's good at this step, Jonny has to admit. He's great at pulling a guy aside to see if he wants to have lunch or go out to a bar with him. He just seems to magically know who needs a little encouragement. But – barring a few hockey-specific skills – anything Patrick can do, Jonny can do better and without a mullet.

"Hey," Jonny says, catching Teuvo before he can leave after their next practice. He may have been waiting at the entrance to the locker room, just in case. "Do you want to go grab some lunch?"

Teuvo jumps and looks around, as if he doesn't think Jonny is talking to him. "Did – did I do something wrong?" he asks, once it becomes clear that there is no one else Jonny could have been asking. "I'm practicing my shot, like you said I should."

"No," Jonny says, confused, but trying to keep his smile steady. "I just thought we could have lunch, spend some time together. There's this great place with flax and chia seed smoothies, they really clear out your system."

"That sounds - delicious?" Teuvo says. "I swear, though, I've been eating really good, I met with the nutritionist and everything!"

Jonny can't help the frown this time. "I'm sure you do. So, lunch?"

"I – I have – " Teuvo is cut short by Patrick appearing and wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

"Hey, man," Patrick says. "Want to join us for lunch? Jonny and I were planning on sushi after the smoothie stop."

This is news to Jonny, but he doesn't say anything as Teuvo relaxes slightly. "Oh, with you both? Okay, that sounds good."

Patrick steers Teuvo around and through the doorway, looking back to point a finger at Jonny as he mouths, "You owe me."

Jonny follows. It's a half-success, and if Patrick wants to sabotage himself and help Jonny in the process, he won't complain.

+++

Seabs corners him the next day, Sharpy and Duncs flanking him like captain-betraying jerks who don't deserve their As.

"I'm kinda busy," Jonny says, because he is – he needs to go home and practice non-creepy smiles. He's sure that's the key to success. Patrick has great smiles.

"Not too busy for this," Seabs says, and all three of them shove him down onto a bench. "Look, it's great that you're trying to help Teuvo feel welcome, but you gotta stop it with the overkill."

Sharpy grins like a fucking shark. "That poor kid thinks you're trying to get him alone so you can cook and eat him."

"I'm not going to – he does not!" Jonny snaps, because he has it on good authority (his mother) that he hasn't looked like a serial killer since late 2013.

Seabs doesn't even acknowledge the words. "You're a great captain, Jon. Teuvo respects you, just as he should, but he's too in awe to handle all this extra attention."

"Just do what you usually do," Duncs chimes in. "Don't try to be Kaner. One of him is enough."

If Patrick were in earshot, Jonny's reply would obviously be agreement, but – "We could use ten more Kaners, don't be stupid."

Sharpy cackles. "Whatever gets your dick going, Toes."

Seabs is still wearing his _I'm more mature than all of you_ look. "We need you to be yourself. Just – lay off a little, huh?"

"I'll lay off your mom," Jonny bites out, and shoulders his way past them. It's not his best retort ever, but fuck those guys. Jonny is going to be Teuvo's favorite or die trying.

 

**Step Three: Be fun**

Jonny is sure he's got this step down. He's great at going out and drinking, and that's the kind of fun rookies like, isn't it?

He finds Teuvo with Shawzy after a win one night and suggests victory drinks. He does that a lot, true, but this time he's actually going to stay the whole night and he makes sure to mention that Patrick will be there, too. Also, he chose their location carefully - they're in Canada and they won't even have to sneak anyone into the bar. He doesn't know why Shawzy looks so smug or why Teuvo is practically fainting, but he figures he can find out while they're drinking. First he has to go find Patrick and tell him that he's been conscripted.

Ten drinks and three bars later, Jonny is fighting for the honor of his garden by slamming his fists down on the bar and yelling loudly about soil purity while Patrick laughs into his shoulder. Teuvo is around here somewhere, Jonny thinks vaguely, and probably he should go find him, but not until Patrick - and everyone else within earshot - admits that Jonny is right.

+++

So, drinking is not a success, Jonny admits to himself the next morning. He's got a hangover worse than any other hangover he remembers except for their post-Cup victories and Patrick is snoring from the other side of Jonny's hotel bed, his snapback still on. Jonny also vaguely remembers telling Teuvo that he would make sure Teuvo got the first cucumbers from his garden once they got big enough, which had led to Teuvo falling off his chair in an attempt to stand up and leave.

Jonny shakes off the hand Patrick's got half on his face and stumbles to the bathroom for some painkillers. On the way back to crash on the bed, he trips over - Teuvo? Jonny blinks and tries desperately to remember how Teuvo got to the floor of his hotel room, but he can't. To be fair, he also doesn't remember Patrick crashing with him, but that at least is a fairly regular occurrence even when his own room is just one adjoining door away.

Deciding that he is not awake enough to handle this, Jonny steps over Teuvo carefully, lies down on the bed again, and doesn't wake back up until Patrick is shoving him several hours later. "Go make me some coffee," he whines. "And bring me some ibuprofen."

Jonny pushes Patrick back, wrestling him onto his fair share of the bed. "You go make me coffee."

"It's too early for this," Patrick says, going limp. "Ugh, get your fat ass off of me."

Jonny obeys, but only because it is indeed too early for this. He's saved from having to admit defeat by Teuvo sitting up and staring at them from the floor.

"Oh my god! Oh my god!" Teuvo lets out a string of Finnish which ends only when he looks down at himself. "Oh my god," he says again, this time clearly relieved. "I'm not naked!"

Jonny frowns and sits up. "Why would you be naked?"

Patrick starts laughing, then groans. "I'm too hungover for laughing," he tells Teuvo. "Stop being funny."

For once, Teuvo looks just as scared of Patrick as he does of Jonny. "Do you know why I slept here?" he asks, his voice wavering a bit. Jonny would feel bad if he didn't have a headache consuming all of his energy.

"El capitan wanted to show you his cucumbers," Patrick says around a yawn. "He forgot we weren't in Chicago. Now both of you scram and let me sleep."

Jonny blinks. "This is _my_ room," he tells Patrick. At least, he's pretty sure it's his room.

Teuvo scrambles to his feet with alarming amounts of energy and runs out the door. "I'm gonna - I forgot - I have to pack," he yells over his shoulder.

"What the fuck," Jonny says blankly, and Patrick does his laugh-groan combo again.

"I'll tell you when you're old enough," Patrick says, shoving his head under his pillow. "We can sleep for at least another hour, shut up."

It's true, and Jonny is tired, so he flops back down next to Patrick and goes to sleep.

+++

Alcohol is apparently out as a tactic now, because Teuvo has started refusing to let anyone buy him drinks when they sneak him into bars, and Jonny is really fucking tired of Patrick's cucumber innuendo.

"You said it, not me," Patrick protests while Jonny's got him in a headlock after his latest attempt to give Jonny shit. "You were all 'Oh, Teuvo, please come look at the giant cucumbers I grew in my garden just for you!'"

Jonny tightens his hold and shoves a hand over Patrick's mouth. Patrick, predictably, licks his palm and Jonny feels a shiver of something weird. He lets go and shoves Patrick away. "Stop trying to give me herpes," he says.

Patrick is busy combing his fingers through his messed up hair and doesn't reply until he's done, although Jonny can't tell the difference. Patrick's hair is a lost cause and always has been.

"One," Patrick says, pointing a finger at Jonny's chest. "I don't have herpes, I know how to use condoms, shut the fuck up. Two, stop trying to be me. That's your problem – you're trying to make friends with Teuvo the way I would, and you're fucking bad at it, man. It's sad. So try something you're actually good at for once."

Jonny scoffs and changes the subject, but he doesn't forget the conversation. What is he good at, other than hockey? Two days later, he announces a mandatory team-building activity: a paintball tournament. Jonny is sure that a little friendly competition where winning doesn't actually matter will get Teuvo to stop avoiding him everywhere but on the ice.

Jonny has, perhaps, overestimated his ability to believe that winning doesn't matter in some situations. He realizes this halfway through losing the first game, after he's finished calling Seabs a stupid slow loser who couldn't hit the broad side of a barn from two feet away while what remains of his team is hunkered down behind a barrier. Teuvo is watching with wide eyes.

Seabs just laughs and pats Jonny on the head. Jonny scowls.

"Hey, Captain Loser!" Patrick yells, from wherever he's hiding on the course, sniping shots at people like an asshole who wants to drive Jonny crazy. "That shit's bad for team morale, you know!"

"You're bad for team morale!" Jonny shouts back. "Stop stealing my people, dickbag!"

One third of his team has defected and another third has been killed. Jonny doesn't give a shit about rookie hero worship anymore - he just wants to burn Patrick's team into the ground and spit on their ashes. Whose fucking brilliant idea was it for them to be the opposing team captains, anyway? Jonny fumes in silence for a few seconds before Patrick yells a reply.

"I wouldn't be able to steal them if you weren't such a shitty captain!"

Jonny stands up, peering over the barrier to see if he can tell where Patrick is based on the direction of his voice.

"Hey," Seabs says, tugging on Jonny's shoulder. "You want to win this thing? Maybe don't go out there without a plan."

Jonny shrugs Seabs away and sneers at him. "I'm not letting him get away with this," he says. "Cover me." Jonny runs out in the open, heading for Patrick's hideaway – and is promptly shot by at least three different people, including Teuvo.

Patrick comes out to gloat, and high fives Teuvo. "Good job, rookie," he says, winking down at Jonny at the same time. "Way to be a winner."

"I am trading you all to Florida and winning the cup by myself!" Jonny yells, and stomps off the course.

+++

After that, Jonny admits defeat. He mostly wants to pretend the whole thing never happened, but he actually has learned some things over the years and he knows that the best way to deal with losing to Patrick is just to rip the bandaid off and have done with it.

"You win," he says, when he opens his door to find Patrick standing there, a six-pack in one hand.

"Of course I do, I'm a winner," Patrick says. "What specifically have I won this time?"

"The rookies. You win the rookies." Jonny takes the six-pack and leads the way into his kitchen for a bottle opener.

"What am I supposed to do with a bunch of rookies?" Patrick asks, smoothly grabbing the beer Jonny opens for him.

"I absolutely do not want to know what you do with the rookies," Jonny says.

"I guess I could use some new minions," Patrick says. "Shawzy has gotten way too out of control lately."

Jonny nudges at Patrick until he moves into the living room, where they both sit down on the couch. "Well, whatever you plan to do with them, they're yours. I'm out."

"Yeah, you crashed pretty hard with the paintball thing," Patrick says, mock concern on his face. "How's that ego? Doing okay?"

"Fuck you," Jonny says, smacking the back of Patrick's head lightly. He's less mad than he could be - calling his mom earlier and listening to all the family news in her familiar voice had put things into perspective. His life is still pretty great.

"Hey," Patrick says. "You know I'm not trying to like, ruin your reputation as a captain or anything, right? I'm just doing what I'm actually good at."

"I know," Jonny says, and changes the subject. Patrick lets him, but he brings it up again as he's leaving a few hours later.

"Saader was always your rookie," Patrick says. "It's not like you've never had a new guy look up to you like that. Hell, they all look up to you. Saader is just the only one who also isn't afraid of you. Because he's ten times more mature than you."

Jonny sighs. "Okay, you've made your point. Goodnight, Kaner."

"And anyway," Patrick says, halfway out the door. He tilts his head up and meets Jonny's eyes. "You were my favorite when _I_ was a rookie. You still are, so."

Jonny gapes. Patrick flashes a grin and smacks Jonny's shoulder. "'Night, buddy," he says, and before Jonny can say anything, he's in his car and backing out of Jonny's driveway.

Jonny doesn't sleep much that night.

+++

"What did you - what did you mean, I'm your favorite?" Jonny asks when Patrick opens his door the next morning. It's a little too early for visits, but the Trump Tower building staff know Jonny and let him in whenever he wants and he wasn't sleeping, so he figures Patrick shouldn't be either. He doesn't know why such a flippant little sentence has his whole world turning upside down, and he needs to find out.

Patrick blinks, his fingers rubbing under his eyes and his hair falling all over his face. He looks ridiculous, and Jonny just wants - he wants to hug him, maybe kiss him. It should feel new but it doesn't, and he thinks maybe he's had this feeling for a while without knowing it.

"Are you going to let me in and answer my question?" Jonny says, when it seems like Patrick is just going to stand there in his doorway wearing boxers and a faded Hawks sweatshirt, blinking sleep out of his eyes.

"Am I - what? Jonny, it's five am."

Jonny gently pushes him back and steps inside, closing the door behind him. "Do you have coffee made?" he asks, making his way into the kitchen.

"Do I have - no, I don't have coffee made, because it's five am on our fucking day off!"

Considering the number of times Patrick has gleefully woken Jonny up early on days when he could have slept in, Jonny feels no remorse. He bangs around in the cupboards for a few minutes and gets the coffee percolating while Patrick slumps down onto one of the breakfast bar stools and puts his head on his arms.

They're quiet as Jonny fixes them each a cup. Back when they were roommates it was usually Patrick making them both coffee in the morning, but Jonny still knows how Patrick takes his. He shakes his head at the second spoonful of sugar and slides Patrick his mug.

"Drink up," he tells Patrick, who doesn't move his head but does reach out one hand to take the offered coffee. The silence doesn't feel oppressive as Jonny takes a few sips and watches Patrick get his head upright enough to take his own sips. Maybe that means something, Jonny thinks. They've spent a lot of time yelling at each other over the years, but Patrick is the one person (outside of his family and Seabs) that Jonny's also always been able to be quiet with.

"I don't know what's so hard to understand," Patrick eventually says. "You're my favorite. End of story."

"I'm still your favorite?" Jonny asks. His voice is kind of fucked up, raspier than lack of sleep can account for. He clears his throat and adds the real question. "Why?"

Patrick sits all the way up and frowns. "Why? What kind of stupid question is that?"

"The kind I need answered," Jonny says. He feels a little like he's on the edge of a cliff trying not to fall, but he somehow knows that if he can just get up the nerve to jump instead, Patrick will catch him.

"You're such a dumbass," Patrick says, his voice taking the sting out of the words. He sounds fond, and Jonny wonders if he's just been missing this all along, because it doesn't sound unfamiliar. "You're the best, Jonny. You're my best friend, you're the best captain, and despite your dumb naked workouts and your dumb breathing machine, you were the best road roommate. You're probably about twenty percent responsible for the fact that I didn't crash and burn forever at nineteen."

"You can't give me that much credit," Jonny says, feeling a slow flush start to build in his cheeks. He can't tell if it's from embarrassment or – something else. He wants Patrick to keep going, but it also might kill him to hear more praise. "You're driven, you made yourself a success."

Patrick laughs, shaking his head. "Sure, dude. I'm not trying to say you fucking saved my life or anything. I'm just saying that even though you make me madder than anyone else ever has, you're my favorite, and you've earned it. I know I'm not as good at hero worship as Teuvo, but it's something, right?"

"I – mostly just wanted to beat you at something," Jonny admits. "I got carried away with it. But I don't need hero worship from you, Pat."

"You have it anyway," Patrick says lightly. He's not meeting Jonny's eyes anymore, and Jonny can feel the whole conversation slipping back into their normal push-pull. He doesn’t _want_ this to go back to normal, though.

"I don't want just hero worship from you," he says, leaning down and across the counter to nudge Patrick's face up with one hand. "I want – I need – "

"Jonny," Patrick whispers, his eyes fixed on Jonny's mouth. He licks his lips, probably unconsciously, and Jonny's stomach swoops. He's definitely off that cliff edge now, and the fall is making his head spin. He wants to take Patrick with him. He leans further in and their mouths meet, a soft press of lips for just a few seconds.

"Is this - ?" Jonny asks, pulling back just far enough to check. Patrick swallows and yanks Jonny back in with a hand in the collar of his shirt. It's a different kiss this time. Patrick is making low sounds in his throat, his arms around Jonny's neck, licking into Jonny's mouth without hesitation. Jonny can taste the coffee Patrick's had, dark and bitter despite all the sugar, and it makes him a little wild. He wants to haul Patrick over the counter and feel their bodies against each other. He wants to kiss Patrick forever. He wants so much, and from the way Patrick is arching into him, mouth wet and responsive, he thinks maybe he can have it all.

"Bed," he gasps, pulling away long enough to breathe. "Or the couch, I don't care."

Patrick smiles, standing up and heading toward the couch. "Couch it is," he says over his shoulder. He sits down and waits until Jonny is just about to reach him before he adds "My hero worship includes blowjobs, just so you know. It's the deluxe package."

Jonny stumbles, his dick hard and straining in his pants. He really wants that, and he can't help but picture Patrick the way he was when they were rookies, with his curls and his obscene mouthguard habit. He strips off his shirt and covers Patrick on the couch.

"You're into that, huh?" Patrick says, pulling back from Jonny's face but leaving his hands firmly grasping Jonny's ass.

"Do you have to ask?" Jonny says, then starts sucking a hickey into Patrick's neck. They can talk about rookie roleplaying later. Right now he has better things to do, and he knows they've got time.

Patrick gasps and moans under Jonny's tongue, eventually pushing him back and switching their positions. "I said I wanted to blow you," he says, licking his lips showily. "And I'm gonna."

Jonny doesn't argue.

+++

After their next game, Jonny gives Teuvo a fistbump, compliments his goal, and makes sure not to smile. Teuvo grins and doesn't try to get away. Jonny carefully ignores the way Patrick sneaks an approving nod at Teuvo behind Jonny's back.

Later, when they're alone, Patrick says "Good job not being creepy, captain," and Jonny kisses him to shut him up. It's proven highly effective so far and Jonny plans to use this new tactic frequently, so the real winner in all of this is definitely Jonny in the end.

Suck on _that_ , Kaner, he thinks, and then sets about trying to get Patrick to suck something else entirely.

**Author's Note:**

> You can definitely assume that in step three, Teuvo thinks Jonny and Patrick are trying to have a threesome with him because Shawzy tells some big fat whoppers. Hossa has to step in before things get really ugly.
> 
> Hossa: No, they don't want to sleep with you. They each just want to claim you as theirs in their ongoing rookie love contest.
> 
> Teuvo: …Oh. That's totally better and not at all creepy… *backs away slowly, considers escaping back to Rockford*


End file.
